Just Turn Out the Light
by TheFreshApple
Summary: Dean and Jo had a brief reunion, but what if they made it a little longer? Inspired by The Eagles. Spoilers for 5.02, Good God, Y’all.
1. Heartache Tonight

**Title:** Just Turn out the Light

**Rating: **T for implied, but nothing serious.

**Disclaimer: **What's theirs is theirs, what's mine is mine – It's as simple as that.

**Summary: **Dean and Jo had a brief reunion, but what if they made it a little longer? A series of drabbles inspired by The Eagles. Spoilers for 5.02, _Good God, Y'all._

**A/N:** I mean, really… Jo and Dean, breathing the same air again? Something is gonna happen there. I predict heartbreak. Again. I was gonna give you guys some good, healthy smut, but I'm just too tired. Next time around, cross my heart.

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**Chapter One:** Heartache Tonight

"Whoa!" A deep voice resonated from the door when her mother swung that gun up and she jumped in shock. It was too much, too quickly. After the fear that her mother had become one of _them_, now this? Now him? She almost didn't want to believe it. Not after so long, not after everything. It seemed almost impossible, almost like fate that the two of them were here, in this demon-cursed town, fighting on the same side against evil once again. She hoped her mother didn't hear the hitch of her breath when he walked through that door. She couldn't take that humiliation.

"Hi, Jo," Dean panted, doing that thing with his eyes that had heat immediately pooling in her belly and her heart going a million miles a minute.

"Hey," she breathed back, trying to get a hold on her nerves. No man should be able to do this to a woman; it simply wasn't fair.

And then he smiled.

_Somebody's gonna hurt someone  
Before the night is through._

Sam hadn't been gone more than a minute, disappearing into the distance, before Jo stepped up behind Dean, her hands in her back pockets, squinting against the Colorado sunshine at the glinting back bumper of the truck.

"How long's he gonna be gone?" she asked glancing down at the tight shoulders, rippling with muscles under the button-down. They rose minutely higher towards his ears and Jo stiffened. One hour back in each other's lives and she was already pushing boundaries. "I'm sorry, Dean," she mumbled, moving to the picnic bench and swinging her leg between table and seat. She straddled the bench and studied him. His facial structure was the same, except now it was burdened down with something heavy, something heartbreaking. She imagined this is what it must have looked like when Sam left the first time, and her heart ached.

"Dean," she whispered when he still didn't look at her. His eyes slipped closed, against the sunlight and harshness of reality and her chest constricted. Wordlessly, she reached forward and brushed her fingertips against his arm, marveling at his heat. His muscles flexed and twitched under her touch and her sense of awareness surged. Suddenly, her heartbeat sounded very loud in her ears, and she could almost hear him breathing. She wished, for just a moment, that she could wrap herself around him and stop him from feeling the pain, stop all the hurt and make it go away. She wondered when it was, the last time anyone had done that for him. With a sigh, she pushed up off the bench and slowly turned away, looking to where Ellen and Rufus were packing up Rufus's truck.

Jo had only made it a few steps when hard, heavy footsteps sounded behind her and a large hand was at her elbow, pulling her around into a solid wall of muscle and sinew. Dean pulled her behind the cover of a large pine, staring at her intently with those green eyes that could be as cold as ice or melt her in her tracks. There was a frantic gleam in those eyes, one that scared her and brought her to the edge of arousal in seconds.

_Somebody's gonna come undone.  
There's nothin' we can do._

Surprisingly, he kisses her soft, gentle. His hands come up to cradle just under her jaw and her hands follow, doing their best to circle his wrists, to hold him to her. Her body ached and she pressed snug against him, frustrated with the way their clothes deny the contact she wants. He murmurs nothings against her lips, holding her as tight as possible. Jo feels like she's drowning and she would rather not come back up for air, but they have to, and they do, regrettably, each breathing like they've run a mile in the New Mexico desert. He rests his forehead against hers for just a second and she snatches that time, letting her fingertips travel up the back of his hands and into his hair, over the back of his skull.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, pulling away, not meeting her eyes. Jo knows the signs; it was the last thing she saw before he disappeared for two and some odd years. He's been to Hell and back, literally, and the last thing she wants is him leaving her again. Especially when he's feeling like he is. She knows about the tension between him and Sam; she's eavesdropped on more than one conversation between Bobby and her mom, listening in on the terrifying truths.

"_Sam's brought on the Apocalypse…"_

"_Dean's breaking, Ellen…" _

"…_can't be in the same room together…" _

"_Bobby, you honestly didn't think Dean would _kill_ him?"_

"…_like before, only this time it's Dean and Sam instead of John and Sam…"_

"_I don't know what to do."_

She holds tight onto his shirt, pressing her lips to his again, pulling him away from the edge and back towards her. He groans quietly and wraps his arms around her waist, pressing against her. It feels almost as if he's trying to climb into her skin, and she almost giggles when she realizes that she's doing the exact same thing.

Then they're moving apart again and he's moving away, drifting away, and she feels frantic. "Dean," she says just loud enough for him to hear, and she realizes that in the space of _maybe_ ninety minutes, they've only said hello, each other's names, and apologized for things that were out of their control. He turns to look at her and she slips something into his pocket. It's the matchbook of the motel she and Ellen were staying in before they got to this God-forsaken town. He looks down at where her fingers are caught at his pocket before glancing up at her. Her eyes are blown wide with arousal and his breath hitches in his chest.

Then she smiles.

_Everybody wants to touch somebody,  
If it takes all night.  
Everybody wants to take a little chance,  
Make it come out right._

Ellen knows where her daughter is going; she knew the minute that man, that _boy_, turned around on the street and squinted at her. Ellen Harvelle remembers what it's like to look at a hunter and not only see the cold, hard killer but also the gentle, endearing man underneath. Bill was a grouch after a hunt, but after a little rum and coke and some CCR, he was a puppy.

Jo probably looks at Dean and sees the same thing Ellen saw twenty-five years ago.

That's why she doesn't bother telling her daughter no when Jo grabs the truck keys and heads out the door without so much as a look back. Ellen can hear Rufus mumbling, but she doesn't give two cents about what the grumpy old man says. She's tried to talk some sense into that girl, but God only knows her daughter won't have any of it. When Sam and Dean walked out to that picnic table, Jo disappeared, if only, Ellen suspected, to avoid her mother's warnings and heavy hints. The time for caution is over now, though. Jo knows what she wants, and with the end of the world looming, who can stop her?

With a sigh, Ellen turns and hefts a heavy duffel over her shoulder. She's got to be ready to pick up the pieces when her daughter has nothing left to do but fall apart.

_There's gonna be a heartache tonight,  
The moon's shinin' bright,  
So turn out the light, and we'll get it right.  
There's gonna be a heartache tonight,  
A heartache tonight, I know.  
Heartache, baby._

It was no run-of-the-mill tumble in the hay. If she thought he could kiss before, she was so wrong, it made her head hurt. Dean made parts of her body tingle that she didn't know had tingling ability, and she'd like to think that the third time she made him come undone, he actually stayed that way for a while. They remained perfectly still, the simultaneous beating of their hearts and the soft sighs of their breaths being the only sounds to fill the room. Her head was pillowed on his chest, her head tucked gently under his chin. She wasn't really asleep so much as just enjoying the feeling of his skin against hers.

With such a beautiful woman in his arms, he tries not to think about Sam, but he can't. Jo's kindness only brings up the reminder than Sam is gone, for what seems like the millionth time, and that hurts. He can't stick around and dwell on it too long, or he'll go crazy. Crazier, anyway. Trying not to jostle her too much, he slips out from beneath her, leaning over her small frame to press a kiss to her shoulder. He knows she's awake, can feel her eyes on him, but he doesn't react. He just gets dressed, silently and efficiently, panicking for a moment when he can't find his amulet, grinding his teeth when he remembers why. He's reaching for the door when he hears her sit up, bedclothes rustling around her and he turns.

Her hair glows golden around her face, almost angelic, if he didn't think it was a discredit to her by comparing her to _them_. Anna and Cas aren't so bad, but he'd just feel better about himself if he didn't lump her in with that lot. They hold each other's eyes for a moment before he smirks and winks at her.

"I'll call you," he says, picking up his jacket off the chair.

Without missing a beat, she's up and out of bed, running naked into his arms. Dean's eyebrows fly into his hairline when she wraps her arms around his neck and presses her face to his chest, holding him tight. He breathes in the scent of her and hates himself for leaving. She looks up at him and he grins at the determination in her eyes.

"You'd better," she growls, and his heart aches.

_There's gonna be a heartache tonight,  
A heartache tonight, I know.  
There's gonna be a heartache tonight, I know._

_  
Lord, I know._


	2. Hole in the World

**A/N:** You guys are so good and patient! You all deserve cookies!

…

What are you looking at me for? Geez…

Again, spoilers mainly for 5.02, _Good God, Y'all_. Let's pretend that this is what was happening between Thursdays, shall we?

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**Chapter Two: **Hole in the World

Jo wasn't quite sure how she had ended up outside of Mazie's Roadside Inn, arguing with herself on whether or not she really wanted to knock on that door. It was a suspicious rust color anyway – who knew how many quickies had been performed against the aging metal. Not to mention the fact that the man on the other side of the door was tired, emotional, and very grouchy if the first two were brought up. She didn't feel like dealing with that. Sam had been gone all of three days – she had no idea how to deal with the one of the Winchester brothers when they weren't being the Dynamic Duo. Sure, there had been that whole business with Sam's possession, and then him slipping away to the Roadhouse to find more "kids like him," but Sam hadn't left Dean on purpose. At least, not for good. This was a whole different ball game, and she was up to bat with a crazy pitcher at the mound. Jo had no idea what kind of curveball Dean Winchester was going to throw her, but when she had heard that message on her cell, she knew she had no choice.

"_Jo, I need…I just need…I mean, I think…Damn." Throat clearing, a moment of silence, and then, "Jo, I need you. Please." _

Nothing more than that. The way he had broken over the phone told her that she needed to be where he was. He hadn't needed her for almost two and a half years, and now that he did, who was she to say no?

Jo, who had looked up earnestly every time a hunter walked into the bar.

Jo, who refused to admit that she cried herself to sleep that first year when he didn't call.

Jo, who wouldn't look her mother in the eye when she said that she wanted to keep hunting, because it might have meant running into him.

Joanna Beth Harvelle, who was mute for a month after learning about his death. She couldn't believe it. She refused to believe it. She finally broke down in her mother's arms, sobbing about lost chances and stupid men.

How was it possible to be so relieved to see one man alive, and still so angry that he had the typical male disease of never being able to call? She knew it was more than that, that is was something so innately _Dean_ that she couldn't question it, but it still drove her insane. She wanted to kill him. She wanted to love him. She wanted to—

The door opened, catching Jo off-guard, and she jumped. Quickly, she thanked God that she didn't squeak, as per usual. Dean stood in the doorway, lamplight lighting the space around and behind him. He had nothing on but a pair of jeans and black t-shirt, his uniform, Jo thought wryly before looking up to his face. The dark circles under his eyes spoke volumes, but it was the eyes themselves that had her captivated.

They were burning. There was no other way to describe them. A pained, radiant anguish flowed up from his very being, through his eyes, and branded her soul. Her heart ached with his pain. Losing Sam, losing ground in the fight against Hell, practically losing his humanity – Dean had so little left to live for.

He stepped aside without a word, and she entered his room just as quietly. He shut the door behind her, not turning to look at her, and she took the moment to take off her jacket, throwing it onto a nearby chair. When she had taken a few quick breaths, she reached out to him and touched him briefly on the nape of his neck. Dean sucked in a quick lungful of air and spun, catching her wrist and drawing her to him. All the breath in her lungs and all the sense her mind left when he pulled her to him and pressed his silky lips against her neck. She could feel the rasp of stubble against her chin, branding her, leaving his mark on her skin.

_They say that anger is just love disappointed;  
They say that love is just a state of mind…_

All of his frustration was released in one simple gesture and Jo had no choice but to hang on for dear life. His hands were everywhere – her ass, her waist, her breasts, her back – and she gasped whenever a male fingertip would graze over soft, female skin. She loved him, deeper than she'd ever care to admit, and when his lips finally found hers, she tried to tell him. She reached up to cradle his face gently, taking her time with their kisses, making them last. At first, Dean wanted nothing of it – he craved quick and fast, hard and heady – but after a few murmured, "Shhh, Dean, shhh," he broke, slowing and making each kiss last.

Dean was scared – he was scared of life without Sam, but he was also scared of what would happen if his little brother stayed. He didn't want to be a ruthless hunter like his father had been, but he recognized that he was destined to follow in John's footsteps. He didn't want to give over to Jo, to be vulnerable, but he no longer had a say in the matter. His heart was stronger than any other part of his anatomy. He had spent years trying to forget her. A lifetime in Hell had all but wiped her from his mind.

Two seconds of seeing her again and he was lost in those doe-brown eyes.

"Jo." His voice rumbled like car tires over gravel, and she shivered. They parted for air, panting and barely coherent. Green eyes bored into her face, trying to read what she was thinking. Jo would have laughed if she had had any breath left. There wasn't a single thought left in her brain.

"I'm here," she whispered, eyes drifting over the freckles that graced his cheekbones, his nose.

With a sigh, he pulled her closer. She smiled and led him over to the bed, pulling him down with her. He went to pull his shirt off and she stopped him, shaking her head slightly. "Sleep, Dean. It's a glorious thing," she said and he offered a weak smile. She turned out the lamp and held him, listening as his breathing grew softer and eventually evened out.

At some point, he cried a little. He called out for Sam and she shushed him gently, stroking his hair and kissing his forehead. She didn't understand the Winchester dynamic, and probably never would. But she could hold him, and she could try to protect him, and by God, she would keep him from hurting as much as possible.

_There's a hole in the world tonight.  
There's a cloud of fear and sorrow.  
There's a hole in the world tonight.  
Don't let there be a hole in the world tomorrow._

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My muse, Jillian, loves the reviews. They make her happy, and incredibly active. Today, we spent literally three hours rearranging my "extra-curricular writing" folders and doing some housekeeping on . Do not doubt the power of a review.


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